"Like-minded? Heh... Sargeras, for you to say such a thing, I find it truly laughable."
Arthas lowered his sword, and Frostmourne struck the floor of the Pantheon's Seat with a crisp clang.
The man mocked by Arthas did not rush to retort; he merely turned around slowly. His face was neither handsome nor ugly, the most ordinary kind one might find in a crowd. Yet, upon closer inspection, his symmetrical features were perfectly balanced, as if he were the embodiment of order. But beneath that seemingly calm visage, a discordant brutality and twistedness lay hidden.
"You are for the future of this universe, and so am I. Is that not a form of like-mindedness?"
Sargeras replied steadily. His demeanor at this moment was nothing like the warmongering dark lord; instead, he resembled a polite scholar—even more so if he weren't clutching a constantly screaming blue World-Soul in his hand.
Aman'thul's soul was gripped in Sargeras's hand. Stimulated by Sargeras's power, the venerable Titan wailed like an alarm, emitting cries at regular intervals. As his wails echoed, strange energy fluctuations, following some connection, extended deep into Argus's core.
Sargeras, while forcing Aman'thul to continue spewing energy, shook his head and said, "Unfortunately, you are an existence that should not have appeared, and it should not be you standing before me here. For this, I had to make my brother suffer such a painful sacrifice."
Arthas observed Sargeras's every move. He also realized that his and Eonar's conjecture was incorrect. Sargeras had no intention of devouring Aman'thul's power. Instead, under Sargeras's brutal urging, cracks, unable to bear the strain, appeared on Aman'thul's soul.
A vast amount of the Titan's soul essence was gushing out. Under Sargeras's guidance, this energy was not absorbed by him but was instead thrown into Argus's core. Within that star core, akin to a furnace, it created the spatial-temporal marvel Arthas had witnessed.
Arthas's eyebrows furrowed slightly. It was then that he reacted, "Those images, you intentionally let me see them?"
"Those are Aman'thul's memories. You've already guessed?" A hint of a smile finally appeared on Sargeras's face. "Then you should have no more doubts. After all, with Aman'thul's memories as proof, the stances of my brethren are not so different from mine; it's just that they lead the Pantheon, and I command the Burning Legion."
In some respects, Sargeras was not wrong. The actions of the Titans were not as "impartial and selfless" as their servants recorded. On the contrary, the order brought by the Pantheon had strong ulterior motives. Rather than protecting Azeroth, it was more about ensuring Azeroth did not deviate from their preconceived notions.
All the answers became clear from the moment Arthas witnessed the Titans uprooting that primal World Tree.
"You are different from those mortals... and from my brethren. You should be very clear what Azeroth truly means, and why I must destroy her."
Sargeras disregarded the struggles of Aman'thul's soul, completely compressed and imprisoned him, and casually threw him onto Aman'thul's original throne, allowing him to continue being drained of his power on his own divine seat.
With a wave of his hand, the Dark Titan conjured a large expanse of fiery red mist. These mists were not aggressive, and Arthas allowed them to permeate the Pantheon's Seat until they completely covered the ground beneath his feet.
Soon, these mists condensed into a lifelike, azure planet. She was serene and beautiful, suspended in the cosmos. In her slow rotation, the Great Maelstrom in the planet's blue ocean gradually turned towards Arthas.
But Sargeras evidently wished to display more than just the planet Azeroth. He continued to manipulate the direction of the mists until a more complex, grander network formed in three-dimensional space, cleverly converging into a focal point on Azeroth.
With Azeroth as the nexus, the six fundamental forces of the universe achieved an incredible balance at this location. Cosmic forces, inherently at odds, gradually intertwined through the planet's energy Veins, becoming interdependent.
Seeing this, Arthas's expression finally turned grim. "You knew all of this long ago?"
"If Aman'thul hadn't so decisively destroyed that initial World Tree, perhaps I would have had to wait until the day I personally destroyed Azeroth to discover this—though by then, it wouldn't have mattered."
Sargeras sighed, his tone surprisingly tinged with regret and reluctance. Yet, behind this regret lay an even more resolute will: "But this way, I absolutely cannot spare Azeroth... this planet that should not exist in the universe."
At this point, Arthas had already raised Frostmourne, and the Light of Dawn holy relic at his waist emanated a dazzling glow. The King gripped his sword with both hands, having adopted a stance, ready for battle as he faced Sargeras, his opponent.
"If that's the case, then we have nothing left to discuss."
"..."
Sargeras looked at Arthas. In Arthas's eyes, he seemed to see something familiar—a discarded, déjà vu-like will. The dark lord's thoughts were momentarily lost, as if he had returned to the era when he faithfully fulfilled his duties, punishing evil throughout the universe.
"You made a mistake, Arthas."
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The dark lord spoke slowly, but this time, his tone no longer held that steady, gentle quality. Instead, it was replaced by a sudden surge of madness and distortion; flames burned in his eyes. Merely gazing at them made one feel as though these eyes could incinerate an entire galaxy.
"The sargerite keystone is a tool I created, and you should not think you can use it against me."
Arthas remained unmoved, slashing his sword. The icy breath of death swept through the sacred hall, almost freezing half of the Pantheon's Seat into ice. "What if I use it against you? Because you won't have the time to control that stone anymore."
Sargeras chuckled, and a flaming greatsword appeared in his hand. He held the blade horizontally, using hellfire to block Arthas's death-sword. Fire and ice collided violently in the temple, and powerful currents tore at everything around them. Even the energy vortexes of the Pantheon's Seat were stirred, yet Arthas and Sargeras stood firm as bedrock.
"Indeed... you might be the most formidable opponent I've encountered in millennia of conquest. Perhaps I can once again fully enjoy the pleasure of battle."
Sargeras's expression gradually twisted. His human-like "face" was completely ripped apart by the flames. Fiery tendrils flowed from his bronze jaw, and molten rock condensed into black horns on his forehead. Only arrogance and contempt remained on his metallic face.
His voice thundered, shaking the entire Pantheon's Seat, "Then let's see, Arthas, if you can kill a god! This is your necessary trial!"
Icy death frost and scorching hellfire danced wildly within the Throne of the Gods, the area where Arthas and Sargeras clashed was enveloped in a chaotic energy storm. If the Throne of the Gods hadn't been the seat of the Titan gods, it would have probably been torn to shreds by this energy vortex long ago.
Even so, when their attacks intersected and landed on the floor and walls of the Throne of the Gods, they still made the divine seat rumble, and even its lights flickered due to the tremors.
Soon, the powers of Sargeras and Arthas were no longer confined to the Throne of the Gods, beginning to spread beyond the divine seat, painting the dark canvas of the cosmos with hues of red and blue.
However, while the commotion of their battle seemed astonishing, both Arthas and Sargeras were acutely aware of how much effort the other was truly exerting.
Sargeras's body at this moment was no longer mortal; his physique expanded with the power he unleashed, quickly reaching over ten meters in height. This was the Titans' usual form within the Throne of the Gods, perfectly suited to the cold, iron throne behind Sargeras.
Large, bat-like wings grew from his broad back. These monstrous demonic wings burned with flames, constantly spewing deadly sulfurous fire outwards, almost scorching half of the Pantheon red.
The greatsword in the Lord of the Legion's hand also changed with him. In front of the colossal blade, Arthas appeared so tiny and fragile, yet this small mortal could accurately parry Sargeras's heavy sword.
However, compared to Sargeras, Arthas was more on the defensive than offensive. Aside from parrying and blocking Sargeras's Sword of Destruction, he rarely launched counterattacks.
Was he too exhausted to deal with Sargeras's assault?
No, that wasn't it. Instead, Arthas had focused most of his energy on observing the state of Aman'thul's soul—since before the battle began, he had noticed that Sargeras deliberately kept Aman'thul's soul away from the center of the conflict.
Sargeras's precise and deadly greatsword descended once more, but this time, a clear look of surprise appeared on the Lord of the Legion's face.
He felt that his strike didn't have the solid impact of being parried as before; instead, it was as if he had cleaved through air, colliding unimpeded with the metal floor, emitting a dull thud.
The mere shockwave of the sound was enough to shatter the flesh and blood of a mortal, and the impact point of the greatsword's edge even created a small vacuum, a void carved out of the chaotic energy storm by this single strike.
Beneath the greatsword was a patch of partially melted ice shards, but Arthas's figure was nowhere to be seen.
Sargeras remained silent, knowing that Arthas had deceived his senses with a frost-made illusion. The battle-hardened Sargeras didn't even ponder further. He lifted his greatsword and swung it backhand, a scorching sword-light whistling out, its blade like heavenly light piercing through clouds, tearing through everything in its path. Even the sturdy floor of the Pantheon was carved with clear furrows by this strike.
The Fallen Titan's blade blocked Arthas's path. He turned and parried, immense Holy Light energy condensing in his hand into a mountain-thick barrier, forcibly deflecting Sargeras's greatsword.
The fiery sword-light, originally aimed directly at Arthas, veered off course with lightning speed, striking towards the defenseless Aman'thul on the throne.
At this, Sargeras's expression finally changed. His massive body, leaving eerie afterimages, moved vertically in an unnatural posture. Just before the sword-light could shatter Aman'thul's soul, he used his bat-wings to smash the sword-light apart.
Broken energy fragments scattered, creating dents and pits across the Pantheon, but Aman'thul's soul, protected by Sargeras, remained completely unharmed.
Arthas raised an eyebrow, seemingly unsurprised by any of this. "As expected."
"Aren't you afraid this was truly just a trap? That you might lose your life, or never have another chance to defeat me?"
Sargeras paused. He glanced at the Titan soul that had survived the attack, not understanding why Arthas dared to make such a bold attempt.
If that last sword strike had landed, Aman'thul's soul, if not utterly annihilated, would at least have been on the verge of shattering. And even Sargeras couldn't claim to be able to restore a Titan's soul. After all, though he had fallen, he hadn't completely transcended the scope of a Titan, just as a mortal cannot understand how to shatter and then restore another mortal's soul.
And if his own plan were to be destroyed by his own hand, that would truly be a great humiliation for Sargeras.
"You never intended to devour Aman'thul, because you knew the risks were completely uncontrollable. After all, even you don't know whether plundering the essence and origin of another Titan would bring you a boost in power or complete destruction after internal conflict."
Regardless of Sargeras's response, his actions had already confirmed Arthas's conjecture—the Dark Titan was far less insane than they imagined. Perhaps the Burning Legion, the Dark Pantheon, and even his deliberately created scenario of wanting to devour Aman'thul's power were all schemes Sargeras used to distract them.
After all, the Eredar's fall was not due to Sargeras's brute force conquest, but from his divisive trickery. This meant that Sargeras was probably more cunning than anyone thought.
After being exposed by Arthas, Sargeras showed no sign of embarrassment or anger. Instead, he looked at Arthas with a complicated expression, though Arthas didn't understand how such a human-like expression could be conveyed on that metallic-looking face.
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"You are indeed a good opponent...smarter and more far-sighted than my brethren."
Sargeras's gaze revealed regret. "You guessed correctly, but unfortunately, you are still one step too late. With your wisdom and the intelligence you've gathered, you must have already known about the existence of Argus, right?"
The Argus he referred to was naturally not the demon planet currently suspended in the cosmos, but the Titan born from that planet: the Death Titan Argus.
This poor and unfortunate World-Soul was targeted by Sargeras before it had fully awakened. Besides stockpiling suitable assistants for his cause, Sargeras also wanted to use the inexhaustible energy of the Titan World-Soul to expand his Legion.
At that time, Sargeras hadn't fully ascertained the whereabouts of his brethren, and all his brethren were mature Titans. He couldn't easily control their will to serve him as he could Argus. Thus, the Argus World-Soul, with its perfectly compatible conditions, became Sargeras's prime target.
It can be said that Sargeras easily destroyed Argus's will as he wished, thoroughly turning him into his "minion" rather than a Titan peer on equal footing. At this point, Argus had almost completely lost his self. Coupled with the pain and torment from the endless siphoning of power by Sargeras and the Burning Legion, Argus had almost entirely become Sargeras's puppet.
For a great World-Soul, this was a tragic end. A Star God, conceived from the essence and energy of an entire planet, was reduced to another's slave, forever losing the chance to become a true Titan.
Even more tragically, when Sargeras realized that the Burning Legion's defeat was inevitable, one of Argus's important values had already vanished. Sargeras no longer needed Argus's energy to nurture his Legion, and with the souls of other Titans in hand, Sargeras could "dispose" of Argus without any pressure.
Seeing how troublesome Azeroth was, even causing his Invincible Legion to stumble numerous times, Sargeras made a cold-blooded decision without hesitation: to use Argus to achieve a mutual destruction with Azeroth...